You're Going to Be So Happy
by sec982
Summary: Peeta returns home from the bakery to find Katniss in bed unable to move or speak clearly. He quickly learns that this is more than just an episode, and is faced with making life altering decisions that concern them both without her help.
1. Chapter 1: Positive

Chapter One: Positive

AN: I have also posted this story on Archive of Our Own, and there is more of it on that website if you're eager to keep reading. In upcoming chapters keep an eye out for trigger warnings.

The summer air flows softly through my blond hair, and I pause at the entrance to Victor's Village. Looking out across the road, a rare feeling of peace flows through me and I am very thankful. I am thankful for how far we've come. Thinking back to how difficult the first months were after the war, I shudder. I had attacks every hour on the hour and Katniss was half dead, unable to care for herself or even move. It took close to a year, but we healed, at least enough to slowly come together. This time it is real. She was sure. She'd chosen me. We got married three years ago, and not because the Capitol made us, but because we wanted to. She loves me. I grin a little, and am silently thankful for everything, even Haymitch's stupid geese.

I am coming home at the usual time and pause in the front entryway. I stoop down to take off my shoes, but I don't hear sounds coming from the kitchen. Katniss isn't cooking, not that I mind. I often cook dinner, if she had a hard day hunting. The late June breeze brushes through the open window as I head up the stairs to check on her. She probably drifted off or is taking a long shower. I enter our bedroom to find her curled up into a ball on her side of the bed. She is facing away from the door, but I see her irregular breathing pattern and I know she isn't sleeping. My heart sinks a little. Things have gotten so much better, but every now and then… there is a moment.

Crossing the room I kneel down in front of her, next to the bed. She has her eyes squeezed tightly together and is biting her lower lip. Her breath is coming out in heaves. I push her hair back from her face and she winces away from my touch. I sharp pain goes through me, and I'm instantly confused. Never in our time together since the end of the war has she refused my touch.

"Can you sit up?" She doesn't respond. She is too far-gone in pain that probably occurred years ago, unable to move. Her episodes have been decreasing in frequency, but when they come lately they have been bad. For all I know she can't even hear me, doesn't know I am here, and is instead imagining me as Prim or her father, cringing away from comfort she doesn't think she deserves.

"I'm going to make dinner," I begin softly, not wanting to touch her again. "I'll be back with it soon." I go down to the kitchen and begin to chop the vegetables hurriedly, tossing everything haphazardly into the pot. I strip some of the meat from the pig we roasted a few days before and toss it in. The water boiling, I quickly clean the kitchen, trying to piece together what happened. The game bag is tossed carelessly over the side of a chair, out of place from its usual spot in the cupboard. It's empty though, suggesting trouble in the woods. I stoop to pick it up and hear the rustle of a plastic bag inside of it. Curious I open it to remove the source of the noise.

It is indeed a plastic bag. I recognize the label from the new pharmacy they built next to the hospital that opened after the war, but its contents have been removed. Not even a receipt left inside. I think maybe Katniss began to feel ill in the woods, a cold perhaps, and went to pick up some sleep syrup. The medicine has made her delirious in the past, worsening her nightmares causing one of her episodes. It's possible she took too much and can't shake herself out of the stupor.

The timer dings and I pull the stew from the stove and pour her a bowl, the smell causing my mouth to water. I walk slowly up the stairs. She has not moved from the spot I left her in. I place the bowl next to her on the bedside table and notice the tear tracks shining on her face. Her breathing is shallow. I move her hair out of her face and taking note of how ghostly pale she is. She parts her lips and speaks.

"I've ruined everything." I shake my head instinctively.

"No you haven't. It's all-okay now. The Capitol is gone. Snow is dead. Coin is dead. Your mother is safe. Haymitch is safe. I am safe, and Prim is somewhere no one can ever hurt her ever again." I tell her softly. I have given her this speech a lot over the past five years. She sobs and shakes her head, still not opening her eyes.

"You're going to…and I just want to waste away."

"I'm here," I say, touching her face, she winces again and I withdraw. "I'm fine. The Capitol can't take me from you."

"You're going…"she croaks again, stopping unable to say it. "You're going to be…so…happy, and I wish I were dead." My heart stops. I haven't heard her talk like this for years. She used to say it often, back when we had daily conversations with the therapist, back just after Prim had died, back when Sae or Haymitch always had to be with us…to make sure she didn't do anything.

"Listen to me." I begin firmly. "I would never be happy without you. You can't say that…you…you can't leave me." She shakes her head and begins to cough. "Don't move," I order her, and I get up and head towards the bathroom, keeping her always in my frame of vision. The bathroom adjoins our room, and I watch her as I fumble for a glass to fill with water, coming up with a plan. I'll call in sick at the bakery tomorrow, stay with her all day, get the doctors on the phone force them to talk to her or for them to come here. She can't be alone.

My fingers miss the glass and strike something skinny and plastic instead. I curse, taking my eyes off her to bend to pick up what must be a toothbrush, but I stop. It landed upside down on the tiled floor but I recognize it as capital made. Skinny and round on both ends, white in the middle with a purple cap over the end. This is a pregnancy test. Hands trembling I remember her devastated croak, "You're going to be…so…happy." I pick up the test, my head pounding in my chest, as I pick up what must have once occupied the plastic bag from the pharmacy. I flip it over, and it seems to take me a million years to read the screen. It flashes with little fireworks as the test celebrates the news that might destroy my wife. "POSITIVE" it reads in big bold letters over the simulation fireworks.


	2. Chapter 2: I Can't Say It Again

Trigger Warnings: non graphic self harm, panic attack, and reference to suicide.

A rush of emotions courses through me. At first I am overjoyed, but less than a second later a feeling of terror overcomes me. She never wanted this. Feared it more than any arena and certain death, and now Katniss is lying in our bed paralyzed with fear. I rush back into our room and sit next to her on the bed. She cries hysterically now. Her breathes coming so quickly so shallowly I think she might pass out. I am still holding the test. She begins clawing at my wrists, but I ignore her, grabbing at the phone by the bowl of soup, I dial Dr. Aurelius' home number, which we are only supposed to use in case of an emergency. His wife answers after three rings.

"Hello," she asks annoyed. Because of the time difference in the capitol they were probably just getting ready for bed.

"Hello, Mrs. Aurelius? This is Peeta Mellark. I need to speak to your husband about Katniss please, it's urgent."

"Of course you do," she snaps exasperated and hands the phone to her husband saying only my name.

"Peeta?" His voice sounds concerned. I haven't called after hours in years. "What happened?"

"It's Katniss I say." She still is scratching at my wrist, her sobs wracking her body as she thrashes on the bed. "I came home and I found her catatonic, unable to move. I found a test in the bathroom, and she's…"

"She's what Peeta?"

"She said she wanted to die."

"She's what Peeta?" he repeated more urgently now.

"She's pregnant." At my words Katniss screams, as though hearing it has caused her physical pain. I have only ever heard Johanna Mason make sounds like that during our stint as prisoners in the Capitol. It rips me apart. She's hyperventilating now, as she begins scratching at her body, like she wants to rip her skin off. Dr. Aurelius responds quickly, barely masking panic in his own voice.

"Call Haymitch, get him over to help you. You can't let her hurt herself. Restrain her. Take her to the hospital. Tell them she is pregnant right away and that she has to be sedated. I'm getting on the next train."

With a click the line goes dead. I drop the test to the ground and dial Haymitch's number. Holding the phone between my cheek and my shoulder with no hands, I begin trying to get a grip on her wrists, pinning them above her head. She has long scratch marks that are beginning to bleed on her arms and stomach. She thrashes beneath me as the phone rings and rings. Finally Haymitch answers.

"What!" he slurs into the phone. I groan. Why does he have to be fucking drunk all the time? "What!" he spits again.

"You have to come over now!" I say urgently. Before he can ask why Katniss starts screaming again.

"Just let me die! Why can't you ever just let me die!" The line goes dead, and I drop the phone as Katniss struggles against me. I hear the front door slam and Haymitch's footsteps pounding up the stairs. He stops in the doorway, taking in the sight of me pinning her down, the blood in her fingernails and the scratches up her arms. He moves quickly for being so drunk, and manages to plop himself down on her legs to stop her from kicking her feet into the bedposts.

"What happened?" he asks shakily staring at her. I don't even know if she registers that either of us are here. She's hyperventilating and sobbing, begging in whispers to simply cease existing.

"Dr. Aurelius says we have to get her to the hospital. She needs to be sedated and he's coming. He says to restrain her if we have to. She can't hurt herself." I say the last line with such a note of desperation I nearly choke. He nods and begins pulling at the sheets, bunching them up tying her legs together. She doesn't resists. He ties two pillowcases together and helps me wrap them around her hands. Wordlessly I pick her up, and we move quickly towards the door.

We're moving through the summer air in seconds. It all feels like a rush. Katniss' head rests on my shoulder, as she sobs hysterically, practically choking for air, pulling at the pillowcases tying her hands together, trying to loosen the knot. The scratches on her stomach her bleeding now, and I push back tears, trying not to wonder if she wanted to scratch our child out of her. This can't be happening. I wrack my brain trying to think. We had always been so careful.

It had to have been about a month and a half ago. The weather had taken a turn, and it had rained for close to a week. Katniss had run out of birth control the day before the downpour, and though she had asked me to go to the pharmacy for more, it had slipped my mind. Stuck in Victor's Village with ample opportunity to make love, we had resorted to an old box of condoms from before we were married. I hadn't thought to check the expiration date. This would kill her, and it was all my fault.

"What happened?" Haymitch asks me again as we rush past the gates to Victor's Village towards the hospital on the edge of town. I shake my head. If I say it again she might starts screaming again like before. The word seems to cause her physical pain. "Something had to have triggered it," he states, starting at her. He clearly thinks this is just a bad episode. "She hasn't been this bad since the year after the war. People don't just relapse after half a decade." He is right. Five years of recovery seems to have just slipped away, and that goddamn test celebrated it with fake fireworks. Hatred rises in me towards the Capitol that made both the test and the condoms.

"I can't say it again," I whimper, looking at him desperately. "I told Dr. Aurelius and…and…Haymitch I've never heard her scream like that." He nods.

"Just tell them at the hospital then." We don't speak for the rest of the journey, but we walk faster and faster. Finally we break out into a run once we are twenty feet away from the entrance to the emergency room. Pushing through the door, still holding Katniss, I immediately see our general practitioner who must be on call tonight, Dr. Birk. He looks up from a conversation with a nurse, his eyes widening in shock, taking in the sight of Katniss, limbs tied together with bed sheets, bleeding and sobbing hysterically in my arms.

"Get a gurney," he hollers at the nurse. "The one with restraints," he adds coming over to us and examining Katniss' fingernails, which are still caked with blood, revealing her wounds to be self-inflicted. "What happened?" he asks me. I hear Haymitch draw in a quick breath behind me.

"Dr. Aurelius is coming, but he says we have to sedate her," I say, setting her down on the gurney as the nurse brings it up. There are two cuffs on it, and Dr. Birk begins untying Katniss' hands and strapping them in. It doesn't look uncomfortable, but the sight of her being restrained kills me.

"I'll get an injection into her," Dr. Birk says. Katniss whimpers at the word. She always hated needles, knocking her out in 13 for days at a time. I shake my head at him, and he looks at me curiously.

"You can't…not with the usual stuff…" I trail off, looking down at my wife. Her eyes are closed tight, her lower lip quivering.

"Why not?" Both he and Haymitch ask at the same time.

"Because she is pregnant." The screams start again, painful and desperate. Katniss begins thrashing against the restraints, clawing at the air, eyes open now wide and fearful. Dr. Birk jumps back in shock, and Haymitch's mouth falls open. I can smell Ripper's white liquor on his breath. At my words the nurse disappears. She comes back thirty seconds later with a needle in her hands.

"It's 30ccs." She says to Dr. Birk. "The one designed for pregnant women." She looks at me kindly, "It won't hurt the baby, and she'll only be asleep for ten hours or so." I can't respond. Hearing Katniss cry and scream like that paralyzes me with guilt and shame for doing this to her. Dr. Birk takes the needle.

"Katniss," he speaks kindly. She doesn't stop crying, so he says her name louder. "Katniss!" Her sobs break and she looks up at him. "I'm going to tell you exactly what is going to happen now. We have to sedate you, just for a little while. Dr. Aurelius is on his way. While you're asleep no one is going to do anything to you. You won't dream. You'll just rest, while Dr. Aurelius is traveling here. He wants to talk to you and you need to be well rested and calm when he comes. I promise you, the first thing you see when you open your eyes will be Peeta," he pauses looking down at her shaking and trembling body. "Do you have any questions?" She makes a choking sound. If she does, I doubt she can voice them. "Can I give you the injection?" he asks kindly. She nods slowly, and without hesitating he pushes the needle into her skin. Her head falls to one side as the drugs over come her mind.

AN: I know this chapter is a little short. The next one is longer. I hope that everyone is enjoying it. Let me know. I love feedback!


	3. Chapter 3: The Reality We Now Face

Trigger Warning: There is dicussion of abortion in this chapter. This story if mature for a reason, and I don't want things to get political here. It's not a good forum for that, and if for whatever reason hearing about abortion makes you uncomfortable you can stop reading and I won't be offended.

I wake up six hours later, sitting in a chair in the hospital. My feet are resting on Katniss' bed as she sleeps off the drugs. I hear Haymitch's ragged breathing on the couch behind me and know he's awake. I had forced him onto the couch, when it became clear he wasn't going home. I glance back at him. His eyes are puffy.

"Did you sleep at all," I ask. He shakes his head. "It's okay if you want to go home and get some rest."

"No," he grunts. "I couldn't sleep if I wanted to." He pauses looking at me. "So…Sweetheart's pregnant." I drop my gaze, wincing, half expecting to hear Katniss begin to scream again, but she's not with us. She's somewhere far away, resting peacefully. I nod staring at his feet, ashamed of what I've done. "What's going to happen then?"

"She can't…" It kills me to say it. This is worse than it would have been if she had never gotten pregnant. I always wanted children so badly, since the war, but not like this, never like this. I have silently begged for Katniss to change her mind, for us to agree to it together. We can start a family no other way. The alternative…the reality we now face would surely kill her. She can never become a mother under these conditions. "She can't stay pregnant," I whisper. Haymitch raises his eyes, staring at me in disbelief.

"Don't look at me like that," I snap. "You know she never wanted this, has feared it more than anything. She can't do this. It would kill her Haymitch, and I won't lose her!"

"Peeta…you've always wanted this," he begins slowly, but I cut him off.

"No! I wanted to start a family with the woman I love. I wanted it to be planned and done delicately, in a way she could handle." My eyes travel over her wrists, still cuffed to the bed, the bandages on her arms and stomach, covering now cleaned wounds. "I didn't want _this_."

The operation was always available in the Capitol, where people had never been forced to do anything or behave a certain way. Snow never allowed it into the Districts, even the ones that did have doctors qualified to perform it. No doubt he didn't want to lose any potential tributes. It was sadistic really, no means of birth control or ways to safely get rid of an unwanted pregnancy, leaving everyone in the Districts with the choice of being celibate or sending a child to the reaping. Now is different. The operation exists, although it remains wildly unpopular in 12.

"You think she'd go along with that?" asks Haymitch quietly.

"You think she's not going to wake up and suggest it?" I shoot back. He doesn't answer. Instead he stares at Katniss, watching as her chest rises and falls softly. I turn away from him. My hands are shaking. As I look at Katniss, I lose all hope. This pregnancy is the end. She'll never be able to carry this child to term, and after this she will never agree to have another. I cover my face with my hands to hide my tears from Haymitch. All hopes I ever had of having a family are gone. I will never hold a baby in my arms and feel the hope that Annie described after her son was born. She said it felt like the war, the fighting, the deaths, the pain she suffered was all made worth it, and that her child had brought her hope and new life, allowed her move on from the Games and the Rebellion, better than she ever could have dreamed of.

I take Katniss' restrained hand in my own and kiss her fingers. I would give all of it up for her a million times. I had been willing to sacrifice much more before. I don't need anything else, but it is going to be hard to let go of that dream. Haymitch claps me on the shoulder, and I hear Dr. Birk clear is throat. I look up and see him standing in the doorway with a chart. A rush of gratitude washes over me for the way he spoke to Katniss before he sedated her. I sit up wiping my eyes.

"Her vitals are fine. We mended the scratches as best we could. She won't need new skin grafts, and she appears to have done no lasting damage." He pauses. "Do you know how far a long she is?"

"Not…not for sure."

"An estimate? Your best guess?"

"A month and a half…probably." I hear Haymitch chuckle. He must remember the rainstorm, all of us being trapped in Victor's Village. If Dr. Birk remembers the storm he shows no signs, scribbling on his clipboard.

"I want to get an OBGYN in," he continues. I shake my head. "Peeta please, the stress could have caused damage to the pregnancy. Someone should do an ultrasound."

"You said, while she was asleep we wouldn't do anything to her. I'm not having an ultrasound done with her unconscious, not when…. not when I know how she feels about all of this." The doctor is shaking his head.

"Peeta, her elevated heart rate, the blood pressure, she was having a panic attack. You can't say you know how she feels about the pregnancy based off tonight."

"But I do know how she feels. I have been married to her for nearly four years. I know exactly how she feels. We aren't doing anything to her, involving this pregnancy without her permission." I can't stand the thought of an ultrasound, seeing the baby, hearing its heartbeat. Having seen that would make it impossible to be there for Katniss when she wakes up and asks for the procedure I know she will so desperately need. "We wait for her to wake up and talk to Aurelius. Then we proceed however she wants to."

"Peeta she might not be mentally stable enough to make that kind of a decision," Dr. Birk says exasperated.

"We wait for her to wake up and talk to Aurelius. Then we proceed however she wants to," I repeat steadily. Dr. Birk shakes his head and places the clipboard at the end of the bed.

"She'll wake up before he gets here. I suggest you give him a call on the train." Without another word he turns and leaves.

The nurses let me use the phone at their station, and I decide to call sooner rather than later, since Katniss should be awake in the next three hours or so. I call the operator with Dr. Aurelius' expected arrival time and she connects me to the right train. A Capitol attendant answer and I wait patiently while he goes to get the doctor.

"Peeta?" his voice is dripping with concern. "Where are you?"

"We're at the hospital in 12. Katniss is sleeping off a sedative. Dr. Birk says she'll wake up before you get here." All of Katniss and I's doctors are familiar with each other.

"What else is he saying?"

"He says it was a panic attack and that he wants to do an ultrasound." There is a long pause.

"Is he scheduling one?"

"No. I won't let him. He swore to her we wouldn't do anything to her while she was asleep. I don't want an ultrasound."

"Peeta the panic attack could have affected the baby. The doctors need to know."

"She doesn't want the baby!" All the nurses behind their station jump as I begin to yell. "You know that! She's been saying so for years! If I see it…or hear its…" I take a deep shaky breath and continue, lowering my voice to a whisper so the nurses can't hear. "I have to be able to let her make the decision she needs to make when she wakes up. I won't be able to do that if they do an ultrasound."

"You really think she'd terminate the pregnancy Peeta?"

"Of course she will." I respond. I know this for a fact. He doesn't answer. "Can you just tell me what to do with her until you get here."

"Talk to her calmly. Don't bring up the baby. Answer any questions that she has. Get some water in her. Try to get her to eat something, and let her talk to the doctor's herself, if she can. You know how she is. If she's capable of taking the lead she'll take it, and it sounds like you're willing to let her do that." I don't tell him I'm counting on it. I don't trust myself to make any decisions. I would make the selfish one for myself, not for her, not for us, but for me. I can't let that happen. Having this baby would destroy her, but without her I won't be strong enough to let it go. If she is still unable to function….I don't know what I'll do.

I hang up the phone and turn back to her room. Haymitch has fallen asleep. I resume my seat next to Katniss' bed and just stare at her. Her chest is rising and falling. Her eyes flutter every now and then, indicating her brain is beginning to fight off the drugs. I put my feet up on her bed again, leaning back. I close my eyes and begin drifting in and out of sleep, head resting on my shoulder. Dr. Birk comes in a few times to try and get me to change my mind about the ultrasound. He points out that Katniss might not be able to make a decision and encourages me to come up with a back up plan, but I can't. I would never be able to make any kind of decision about her body without her.

AN: So I updated a lot faster this time. A lot of people in the reviews expressed that they were very eager for more, and since I have more I don't want to be mean and withhold it. I will also say that I love reviews and if you like my writing and want to see more of it, please feel free to leave me one. Even if you have something constructive to say or a suggestion I'll listen. Anyway I hope everyone enjoyed the update!


	4. Chapter 4: The Exit You Need

Trigger Warning: There is brief mention of abortion and self harm in this chapter.

I'm leaning forward on the bed, head resting on my folded arms, drifting somewhere between dozing and being conscious when I hear the soft clink of the restraints moving. They make a light snapping sound, and I know Katniss has pulled her arms up as far as she can, which is only about six inches off the bed. I reach out and take the hand that's closest to me. She clasps it tightly. I sit up and instantly find her grey eyes, gazing at me. She swallows hard.

"Water…" she croaks. I nod and fill a glass with a pitcher sitting on her bedside table. Haymitch shifts on the couch but doesn't get up. He's either sleeping or pretending to be asleep to let us talk. Either way I don't care. I hold the cup up to her lips and trembling she takes a sip, then another, then another. Slowly she drinks half the cup, and I remember her forcing me to drink in the cave during our first games. For an instant I miss being alone with her in the cave, young, before the rebellion, back when we thought if we could just survive life would be simple. She leans back into the pillows, and I set the glass down.

"How are you feeling?" I ask calmly.

"Shaken."

"Completely understandable." I reply trying to smile. I remember Dr. Aurelius' advice about keeping her calm. "Do you want something to eat? I can call a nurse." She shakes her head.

"The baby?" she whispers. I stare at her, unsure what to say. I was told not to talk about it with her, but to answer all her questions and let her take the lead. Dr. Aurelius must have thought she never would bring the subject up herself. I didn't think she would either.

"I should wake Haymitch," I say, my voice shaking, "Tell him to go home. He hasn't slept for more than a few hours." She glances at Haymitch, still lying on the couch behind me. I don't check to see if his breathing is even. I don't want to know if he's awake.

"I…" she gulps. I reach for the water and offer her some. She takes a few sips and starts again. "I…I lost it…didn't I?" My heart drops. I set the cup back on the table. "Please just tell me," she whimpers, looking hard at my face. Unimaginable sadness must be etched on it. She looks like the mere sight of me is causing her physical pain.

"I don't know," I offer lamely. She shakes her head slightly in disbelief.

"I don't deserve you. I wish I'd died the first arena."

"Don't talk like that!" I say firmly, but she's crying now.

"I could have given you everything you ever wanted, but I ruined it…destroyed it." I am shaking my head.

"Katniss," I reach for her, but she winces away from me again. I withdraw my hand. "The doctors don't know if you miscarried. They wanted to do an ultrasound but I wouldn't let them." She begins making the choking sound again, the sound that usually accompanies her sobs. "Do you want me to get Dr. Birk to do that ultrasound?" She pauses, her breathing sounding labored, but then she nods. I get up and move towards the door calling for Dr. Birk. I see him, nod to me and begin to head in our direction.

I come back into the room. Haymitch still hasn't moved. He must be pretending to be asleep, but Katniss is completely focused on me now.

"Why wouldn't you let him do an ultrasound?" Katniss asks confused, her face shining with tears. Before I can answer Dr. Birk arrives.

"Good to see you awake Katniss," he says brightly. "How are you feeling?"

"I want the ultrasound," she says firmly. Relief washes over me. Her voice sounds steady again, not loud but firm. I take Dr. Aurelius' advice and allow her to take the lead. Dr. Birk frowns.

"Dr. Aurelius will be here in a just a few hours. It might be better to wait now that you're awake, in case the results aren't…what you are hoping for." He finishes lamely, clearly not knowing which news would be worse. At this point learning that she is either still pregnant or has miscarried could cause her severe psychological damage. Katniss is shaking her head.

"I need to know," she says, still firmly. Dr. Birk looks at me.

"You said we should wait until she talks with him," he said pointedly. I look at Katniss, then back at the doctor, and shake my head.

"All he would do is help her sort out what she wants. It would be worse if she figures out what she wants and gets the opposite. If she's awake and consenting to finding out, it's probably best to know what we're dealing with." Dr. Birk messages the bridge of his nose.

"I'll call the OBGYN then," he states and turns to leave, and I walk back into the room. Katniss' hands are still tethered down, and I don't have the key to unlock them. She allows me to cup her hand in mine as I sit back down. I stroke her thumb and place my other hand on her cheek caressing it delicately. She bites her lip, looking at me, clearly terrified.

"Whatever you want to do," I tell her, "it's fine."

Twenty minutes later the door opens and a machine is pushed through it. The door knocks against it awkwardly, as the small nurse, who is at least a foot smaller than the contraption and six inches skinner, struggles to maneuver it. I have never seen someone so small. I stand up and push the door back for her, as she huffs and pushes the load into the room.

"Hi!" she chirps. "I'm from Dr. Clora's team." Her voice has a peppery tone to it, and her smile might be fatter than she is. I stare. The concept of being happy at a time like this is so foreign I almost don't recognize the emotion. Haymitch is no longer pretending to be asleep and I hear him spluttering on the couch. "She's on her way down right now."

"Dr. Clora?" I repeat.

"The OBGYN." The door opens again and Dr. Birk walks in accompanied by a tall woman with a sharp jaw line and white jacket.

"Katniss, Peeta this is Dr. Clora," Dr. Birk begins, but Dr. Clora has moved past him and is pulling up a seat next to Katniss. I take the seat on the other side as the doctor's eyes fall on Haymitch.

"You should be waiting outside," she snaps. He splutters more. "Or better yet, perhaps you should go get checked for alcohol poisoning." Her voice is dripping with disdain.

"Is that really necessary Clora?" asks Birk.

"This is my procedure, Birk. I can dismiss whomever I like from the room. Come to think of it, is your presence even needed?"

"It most certainly is," he responds indignantly. "Mrs. Mellark is my patient and has been for five years. I admitted her and prescribed the first sedative, and last I checked you are not at liberty to give her more if it's needed." I tune out of their bickering and look at Katniss. When the nurse entered with the machine, her eyes had darted up to the ceiling. She was refusing to make eye contact with me, and I could hear her taking deep steading breathes. I grip her hand and squeeze.

"Well then," says Dr. Clora, as Haymitch slams the door shut. "Let's get started." She rolls up the shirt of Katniss' pajamas and reaches behind her. The nurse hands her a tube of gel, which she begins squeezing out onto Katniss' stomach. Her eyes snap to Dr. Clora's face, and as the two women make eye contact, Dr. Clora smiles. "Just relax."

The nurse switches the machine on and unhooks a kind of metal wand from it. A screen lights up, and Dr. Clora takes the wand. I grip Katniss' hand harder, and lean down, pressing my forehead against our fingers, closing my eyes. I don't want to see. I hear nothing for a few second. I focus on the feel of Katniss' skin against mine, listening as her breath comes out steady but slightly shallow. Then I hear it. I quick thumping sound…my child's heartbeat. A tear slides down my face. This is all I will ever have. The minutes tick by, and I don't sit up. I can no longer hear Katniss' breathing over the sound of our baby's heartbeat.

"Things appear to be okay." I hear Dr. Clora as though she is speaking from miles away. "That's about what you would expect at a month and a half. If you look right there," she says, "You can see the baby." I don't move. I keep my eyes closed. I don't want to see it. I can hear a slight rustle and feel Katniss' body reposition a bit as she looks at the screen. There is a sound of a switch and the heartbeat stops. The machine has been turned off. I sit up as Dr. Clora wipes the gel off Katniss' stomach. I glance at my wife. She's pointedly not look at me, staring at Dr. Clora as the nurse pushes the machine out again, banging it against the door.

"How are you feeling Katniss?" Dr. Birk asks from the corner, his eyes glued to my wife's face. I can't read any emotion on it. She shrugs.

"See Birk, and you thought she'd need more sedative." Dr. Clora stands up now. "I'll be seeing you both again soon. Come on Birk and give them a minute before you pounce." She pushes past him and leaves. He stares at us for a few more seconds and follows. I look at Katniss. Her eyes are focused on our intertwined fingers. Ten minutes go by and we don't speak. I feel empty on the inside, like everything that could have ever helped me move on with my life has been dangled in front of my face and lit on fire.

"You've always been the one who knows the right thing to say," Katniss whispers. "I need you to start." Her eyes meet mine, and I sigh.

"I don't think I can." I want to give her an out. I know she needs me to. "I want to be selfish, very badly. I don't know how to give you the exit you need." She stares at me as I speak.

"You wouldn't look at the picture." It's a statement.

"I'm just trying to survive this Katniss." She sucks in her breathe.

"I never thought I'd hear you talk about it like this. I thought this was what you wanted."

"I wanted you to change your mind. I wanted to plan it with you. I wanted you to be prepared and in control, have it be a decision we made together. I never wanted _this_. You…unable to handle it…only in this condition because…because I was a forgetful idiot."

"Peeta," she whispers my name softly.

"I can't get attached," I continue, ignoring her. "I don't want to let myself believe this is ever…going to come to anything." She falls back on her pillow looking dejected.

"What exactly is it that you think you need to survive? Can you just tell me what you think is going to happen?"

"I think that when Dr. Birk comes back, you're going to ask to schedule an abortion." She studies my face.

"I can't do that to you."

"This shouldn't be about me. I'm not the one who was driven to the brink by this. That pregnancy test didn't make me feel suicidal or cause me to have a panic attack and try to rip my skin off." I pause here, my heart rate accelerating at the memory. "The blood, Katniss…" She looks down at the bandages now, as if noticing them for the first time. Tears begin to fall from her eyes.

"I'm…I'm…I'm so…so sorry," she whispers, biting her lips.

"Please don't apologize," I beg her, "Katniss, I just need you to tell me what you need. All I want is to keep you safe and healthy. Tell me. It's okay."

"I want to wait for Dr. Aurelius."

AN: So far I feel like I've gotten a great response. I've actually already written quite a bit of this story, and rereading this chapter reminded me of just how far this story has come and how far it still has to go. I want to know what people are thinking, so please comment with thoughts and feelings and so forth! It helps me feel motivated to keep going!


	5. Chapter 5: Not Deciding is Deciding

Trigger Warnings: Mention of Self Harm, Suicide and Abortion.

I open the door, and Dr. Birk and Haymitch come back in. Haymitch's hair looks ridiculous, sticking out at all angles. His eyes are puffy and red. He has barely slept in the past week, overcome by fresh bout of nightmares. He shuffles over to the couch. Dr. Birk's brow is creased with concern as he studies Katniss. She's lying back in bed, hands still cuffed. I take up my seat next to her again, closing my fingers around hers. She doesn't wince at my touch. Dr. Birk closes the door.

"Peeta and Haymitch have told me everything that happened, Katniss," he begins slowly. She nods, face unreadable. "You talked about wanting to die, begged Peeta to let you in fact. And the damaged you caused to yourself…. Given your mental health history and the slashes on your arms and abdomen, the law states I won't be able to discharge you for at least two weeks." I close my eyes for a few seconds and squeeze Katniss' hand. Having to stay indoors in the hospital will come as quite a blow. "Dr. Aurelius has agreed to stay in twelve for the next few weeks. You'll be required to meet with him as much as he sees fit during this time. If he deems it appropriate, you can be discharged in a fortnight."

I look at Haymitch. His eyes are focused on the legs of the bed. I almost expect him to protest about the time frame, saying it's too extreme, but not a word escapes his lips. If anything he looks relieved.

"Anything else?" asks Katniss. She hates being treated like a thing and the fact that this is legally required is going to annoy her. No doubt she's thinking of all the times she was forced into confinement by Capitol or District 13 doctors.

"I feel I should tell you, I've talked to Dr. Aurelius about placing you back on suicide watch during this time, but he wants to wait till he's spoken to you directly to make any decisions." Katniss scrunches up her forehead, an expression of frustration etched across her face. "Then there is also a matter of the…" he trails off, not doubt remembering how she screamed the last time the word was uttered. I'm grateful he stopped just short of saying it. It seems to hang in the air though, and Katniss sinks deeper into her pillow, casting her eyes away from Dr. Birk, Haymitch, and myself, the creases vanishing from her forehead.

"If you need more time," Dr. Birk coughs gently, "I understand. I know you both have different feelings on this particular topic."

"We want to discuss it with Dr. Aurelius," I inform Dr. Birk, as Katniss closes her eyes. He nods, understanding. I sigh deeply.

"Can I talk with you outside Peeta?" I get up and kiss Katniss on the forehead, following the doctor out of the room. Haymitch gets up from the couch and takes my seat next to the bed as we close the door. I follow him to a small nook ten feet from the door. I can still see Katniss and Haymitch through the window that looks into her room. Dr. Birk turns to me.

"From a medical perspective, I have to tell you, if her mental state is stressed by the pregnancy, she has a greater chance of miscarriage." I nod, having expected as much. "We won't know the degree of how damaged her mental state is until Dr. Aurelius has had done his assessments, which will probably last over the next two weeks, but we might not have time for that."

"What do you mean?"

"Panem law states that an abortion cannot be performed once the pregnancy has progressed past the second month. By the time Dr. Aurelius has determined if Katniss is capable of carrying the baby to term without damaging her psyche, it would be too late for her to do anything but." I bite my lip. "I know that this is a difficult position, but I have to tell you, speaking as your doctor, I can't recommend Katniss proceed with the pregnancy. It's too much of a risk."

"I doubt she'd choose to have the baby," I say, trying hard not the recall the thump of its heartbeat. "I'd be surprised if we haven't scheduled everything by the end of the day." Dr. Birk pats me on the shoulder a few times.

"I'm very sorry Peeta," he offers. I look at him, and I know that he knows what I know. After Katniss has an abortion, she will never change her mind. We will never have children. All I can do is nod to show my thanks. "We'll wait for Dr. Aurelius then."

"The restraints?" I ask.

"I don't know if I feel comfortable removing them yet. She's calm right now, but you know how suddenly she can shift… if some one says the word pregnant again for example." The image of Katniss' fingers drawing blood from her own flesh flashes before me. No. The restraints must remain on, at least until Dr. Aurelius gets here. I glance at the clock. He should be here within the hour. I thank Dr. Birk and return to the room.

Haymitch is picking at a thread on Katniss' blanket. She's staring blankly at the ceiling, apparently unaware that anyone is in the room with her. I clap Haymitch on the shoulder.

"Why don't you go home? Get some sleep. I'll call you after we've spoken to Dr. Aurelius." He hesitates. "The geese probably need feeding." He shakes his head.

"They don't need me as much as some people," he whispers, glancing at Katniss. She's laying so still, I would think she were asleep, if her grey seam eyes weren't open and beginning to water. As if on cue, she suddenly let's out a frustrated scream, and begins to kick and thrash around in her bed. Her wrists strain against the restraints. Haymitch pulls a flask out of his jacket, and I close my eyes, unable to stand the sight of my wife breaking down. Haymitch gets up, and taps me on the shoulder. I open my eyes as he offers me the flask. I shake my head.

"Well, if you can listen to these screams sober…then good for you." He grumbles, taking another gulp. I close my eyes again and wish with all my might that this is just a hijacking flashback. When I open my eyes, I'll be clutching the back of dining room chair. The rain will be beginning to start and Katniss will be at the kitchen sink, taking her birth control, from the prescription that I remembered to pick up that day.

I open my eyes when the door slams. I am not in my house in Victor's Village. Katniss is still screaming and thrashing on the bed, trying to break the links on the restraints. Haymitch stumbles out of the room, sitting on a bench opposite the door, I watch as he tries to cover his ears with both hands, blocking out my wife's hysterics. I can't say I blame him. No nurse or doctor comes, probably knowing she can't do herself any harm with the cuffs on. I collapse in the seat next to the bed and resting my elbows on my knees cover my face. I don't want Katniss to see my tears.

I look up when I feel a hand on my shoulder and balk. For the first time in five years I'm looking directly into Dr. Aurelius' face. I pull myself to my feet, unable to say anything he'd hear over Katniss' screams. My face is still stained with tears. I shake my head at him and walk to the corner of the room, facing the wall. I pound it with my fist in desperation. I turn back to the room. Dr. Aurelius is sitting in the chair opposite my own. His bags are resting at the foot of the bed, and he is calmly checking a watch on his wrist, waiting.

After another five minutes or so, Katniss' screams begin to reduce and her thrashing becomes less fierce. She's wearing herself out. She glances at my empty chair and her eyes dart around widely, searching for me. We make eye contact, briefly, before I drop her gaze, wiping my tears away. She stops thrashing completely and the room goes quiet except for her panting. Her arms become lip at her sides, but I can see angry red marks on her wrists from where she was pushing against the restraints. She's still staring at me. I recognize the expression on her face. It's the same one she wears when she is saying something truly terrible about herself. It's self-loathing.

"Tuckered out?" asks Dr. Aurelius. Katniss doesn't answer. She just keeps staring at me. "I hear we have a lot to talk about Katniss," he continues kindly. "Would you mind if I talk to her alone Peeta?" he inquires, turning to me. I shake my head and leave the room as quickly as I can. I join Haymitch on the bench and don't refuse when he offers me a swig from the flask. I cough, remembering the announcement of the Quarter Quell, when Katniss got drunk with him. I watch through the window as Dr. Aurelius talks. I can't hear is words or guess what they might be based off the movements of his lips. Katniss doesn't respond though. She just keeps staring straight ahead. They settle in, just staring at each other as Dr. Aurelius waits for a response.

I am not sure how much time has passed, but neither of them seem deterred from their current course of action. Haymitch and I just sit outside. Him drinking heavily, me taking the occasional gulp. Eventually I begin to feel numb and my thoughts start to slow a little. By the time Dr. Aurelius emerges the flask is empty, and Haymitch has fallen asleep, clutching it loosely and snoring loudly. Everything seems murky to me.

"Peeta?" I look up at Aurelius. His brow is creased and his lips are frowning in concern. "We should go for a walk." I stand up, swaying a little on my feet, wondering if I'm going to throw up. I follow him out of the hospital, and wordlessly we begin to walk towards Victor's Village. Since the hospital is on the outskirts of town closest to the Village we'll arrive in less than twenty minutes.

"What do you think?" I ask, squinting in the sunlight. It strikes me as odd that the world had kept moving after we'd entered the hospital the night before.

"I think I haven't seen her this bad since after the bombing. She won't talk to me Peeta." My heart sinks. "She's practically catatonic."

"No she came to. She asked for the ultrasound. We talked about what we were going to do."

"And what did she say?" I think back to our earlier conversation. We hadn't come to a decision. She hadn't given any hint as to how she felt about having an abortion other than to say she couldn't do it to me. But I had won that argument…hadn't I?

"Nothing that made sense." Dr. Aurelius nodded as though this was what he expected.

"She can't make this decision, Peeta. She can't even wrap her mind around the fact that she's pregnant without experiencing an overpowering feeling of panic. I doubt she could even think about it long enough to tell us if she wanted an abortion." My heart sinks.

"Well then what can we do to get her to a point where she can think about it?" He's shaking his head.

"You know there is nothing we can do. She needs time to overcome the panic, like she needed time to overcome the grief from losing Prim. Until then, you're going to have to be in charge." I shake my head.

"How long will she need?"

"You where there after Prim's death. When did she start functioning again?"

"We don't have that kind of time! Dr. Birk says we can only legally terminate the pregnancy for another two weeks."

"Peeta," he begins softly. We're crossing under the gate to Victor's Village. "You have to start preparing to make this decision without her." I'm shaking my head.

"I cannot make decisions about her body without her consent. That is what the Capitol did to her, and District 13 for that matter. Sending her here, waxing her, putting her in that dress or that one, injecting trackers into her, deciding when she should be awake and when she should be sedated, who she should marry. I won't do it to her."

"Then she's going to stay pregnant," he states matter-of-factly. "You can't pause the growing fetus inside her Peeta. That's the thing about kids, they keep on going even when you're begging them to stop." We're standing outside the entrance to our house now. I don't want to open the door and see the pot of soup I'd made the night before, cold on the stove now. I don't want to go upstairs to shower and change clothes, and find the positive pregnancy test on the floor next to the bed. If I go inside I'll have to strip the bed and the sheets to get Katniss' blood off it. I stop outside the door.

"The way things stand Peeta, you have two options. The first is to schedule an abortion. The second is to let Katniss' pregnancy progress. Either way, I have to go back to the hospital and report to Dr. Birk that Katniss has relapsed into a catatonic state accompanied by violent outbursts against herself and panic attacks. I am going to have to declare that she is not mentally capable of making medical decisions for herself at this time. Once I tell him that, responsibility for deciding what procedures she will or will not receive will fall on her next of kin, which would be you Peeta."

"I won't do it. I won't decide."

"Refusing to decide, is deciding in this case." He shakes his head. "I have to get back to the hospital to report my findings to Dr. Birk.. Go inside. Take a shower,. Get a change of clothes. Find some things around the house that Katniss likes, and bring them to the hospital. Take a nap. Just think about what is best for your family while you do it." With that, he turns and walks back towards the hospital.

I wait until he's out of sight, then race across the lawn to Haymitch's house. He left the door unlocked, and I'm inside in seconds. Ignoring the smell I walk quickly into the kitchen, where I find one of the boxes that Capitol train delivers to him every month. I pull it out from under the table and grab one of the bottles inside. This isn't Ripper's white liquor. The liquid in this bottle is a dark brown color, but I break the seal and take a long hard swig. It burns going down like Ripper's liquor does. I get up slowly, and hazily make my way into Haymitch's living room. Collapsing in his favorite armchair, where I have so often awaken him from drunken stupors, I continue to slowly but steadily drain the bottle. It doesn't take long for the alcohol to numb me and make me forget about my wife and unborn child, waiting in the hospital for me to choose between them. I chug and chug and chug until I think I'm going to throw up. It takes me close to an hour of this before I finally pass out.

AN: Alright this update took a little longer because I've been traveling a lot lately. It was also originally supposed to be two chapters, but I decided that the first chapter was too much of a filler, and I hate it when authors just post fillers. I hope that everyone enjoyed it. Please leave me a review! I love hearing about what you hate, what you love, what you love to hate about this story. It's helpful for me as a writer to hear how my readers are taking things. Also it makes me feel motivated to post updates sooner!


	6. Chapter 6: Don't Touch My Liquor

Trigger Warnings: Discussion of self harm, discussion of abortion, and one f bomb.

The cold water hits me in the face causing me to snarl like some combination of a wounded and enraged animal. I jump up and throw the mostly empty bottle at whoever had doused me in water. Haymitch just manages to dodge it, and it flies past him smashing on the wall. The liquor now soaks the wallpaper, since its container is in pieces on the floor. I stand panting and shaking from the violent way I've been woken.

"Not very pleasant," Haymitch muses, watching me place my hands on my knees and lower my head. The room is spinning a little. "And did you have to open a good bottle?" he whines, "That was a Capitol bottle. Couldn't just drown your sorrows in some of Ripper's crap white liquor?"

"Like I fucking care Haymitch," I snap. He raises his eyebrows at me.

"Well aren't you just a lovely house guest, breaking in, drinking the good stuff without me, and that language!" The sarcasm might as well be dripping down the wall with the alcohol.

"What do you want?" I demand. He raises his eyebrows at me. Of course I have no right to demand such things from him. It's his house.

"You're pregnant and panicking wife was asking me what happened to you. You've been gone for hours." I glance outside. It's pitch black, the dead of night. It has to at least be past midnight. "Honestly," he continues. "I would expect this kind of behavior from her. Not you."

"Excuse me?"

"Running away. Getting drunk. Passing out. Refusing to talk to anyone or listen to their advice. Denying that any kind action is needed because of your own god damn emotions." I don't say anything. He's right. That is what Katniss would be doing. Hell that is what she is doing. Unable to physically flee from her own body, she has retreated into a deep panicking depression that is she currently hiding in.

"You've got to pull it together, boy," he growls. "Your family can only afford to have one of you incapacitated at a time, and your wife is beyond reaching right now."

"They sedated her again?"

"They had to. Once the sun went down and you still weren't home, she started screaming. They let her go for a while, but her wrists were bleeding. She found a few rough spots on those cuffs. They were changing out the restraints for softer ones when I left. You know Aurelius has declared her temporarily insane?" I nod and get to my feet.

"I should get back."

"No you shouldn't. There's not point. They gave her another dose of sedative about an hour ago. She's going to be passed out for another nine. Go home. Eat something. Take a shower. Think about what you're going to do, and don't touch my liquor." He turns on his heels and walks into the kitchen. I can hear him scrapping around trying to find a new bottle. I walk out of his house, and cross the lawn to my own. I pull the door open, shivering from the cold air and the water, still dripping from my hair. Closing the door behind me, I walk into my own kitchen and begin buttering a slice of bread, not wanting to touch the soup I had made for Katniss.

I walk up the stairs and enter our bedroom. It is missing its top sheet and the pillows are lying naked, scattered around the floor. I had forgotten to check to see what happened to our bed sheets after they'd strapped Katniss down. I strip the bed of all the sheets that remain, taking care not to look at the bloodstains. I walk out back and dump them in a bucket, which I begin to fill slowly with water. Once the sheets are soaking, I return to the house for another piece of bread with butter.

Overcome by hunger I finish the whole loaf, watching the second hand tick around the clock again and again. I can't form whole thoughts. I just sit waiting for some kind of moment of clarity to hit me. I try to think of what Katniss would do, and while logically I feel she would chose to not stay pregnant, my heart protests. After all these years is it possible she loves me too much to abort a child…my child…our child…all I feel our lives have been missing. At the same time something about choosing for her to have an abortion…it feels too controlling, like it's not a procedure I can just decide she should have. There seems to be something so violent and barbaric about the situation, a group of men forcing a mentally unstable pregnant girl to have an abortion for her own good. However the past twenty-four hours have proved to me that she is not prepared to handle the pregnancy. If steps aren't taken, I could lose her. I can't lose her. She is everything. I have been willing to give up my own life for her in the past, but this isn't my life I'd be giving up for her. I can't do it. I can't choose between my wife's sanity and my child's life.

I sit at the counter until the sun begins to rise. Standing I mindlessly walk to the shower, removing my clothes, and stepping under the boiling hot water. No clarity comes. I begin washing myself mechanically applying soap and rinsing it off. I can't decide, but Dr. Aurelius' words are echoing in my mind. He is right, not deciding, is deciding. I wonder if Katniss might come to in the next week or so, if she could open her eyes and just tell me what to do. That is what will have to happen. I will have to find a way to get through to her. Shutting the shower off, I step into the bathroom, drying myself, and walk into our bedroom, throwing fresh clothes on. I bend down next to the bed and pick up the pregnancy test. I look at it again. The screen is still flashing with fake fireworks. I remember the game makers setting fireworks off after the arena blew up at the Quarter Quell. The thought of how much they seem to love celebrating things that only bring me pain makes me want to vomit. I drop the test on the now bare mattress, wanting it as far from me as possible and turn to Katniss' closet.

I stuff a fresh pair of pajamas and underwear into a bag. I grab her toothbrush and toothpaste from the bathroom, and move around the room, looking for things. I pick up her father's old hunting jacket and carefully place it in the bag. I grab the book she had been reading from the bedside table and toss in the one she had been planning to read next on a whim. Going downstairs, I wrap a few cheese buns that I had made the day before yesterday in some napkins and zip the bag up.

I am back at the hospital in ten minutes, panting and sweating. The sun is almost completely up now. The nurse waves me over and tells me they've moved Katniss. She directs me to an area of the hospital I know well. It's the mental ward, where I go when they have to examine my brain to see how I'm coping with the hijacking. I walk slowly to the south section of the hospital, and enter Katniss' new room. She sleeps soundly on the bed, which looks larger and more comfortable than the last one. Her hands are now tied down with padded cuffs. I can see fresh bandages around her wrists from where she dug into the last set. I haven't been here before, and it has more space than the last one. The couch is larger and looks more welcoming, as do the chairs sitting on either side of her bed. The TV set is new and includes a channel listing. The walls are painted a light blue, and someone has clearly tried to make the place seem homey. I set down the duffle bag, getting the distinct impression we're going to be staying here a while.

AN: I know this chapter is a little shorter than the last few, but the next one really has to stand on its own. Some people have been saying they don't feel Katniss would react by shutting down this way. I however disagree based off how she behaved when she first got to District 13 and the Capitol had Peeta. Also there's how she wandered around completely catatonic after Prim's death. Since this is so soon after the war she has not completely finished healing yet and does not feel ready for children. Even Susan Collins described an acute feeling of terror that Katniss felt during her pregnancy in the epilogue. If people disagree thought I respect their interpretation of the book and hope that they will respect mine. I'd love to hear more thoughts so please review!


	7. Chapter 7: Dream Soft Dreams

**Trigger Warnings: Description of panic, discussion of self harm abortion and brief mention of self harm. **

**AN: Don't let the trigger warning's fool you. This chapter is actually really sweet and tender. It's actually probably the sweetest chapter I've written so far.**

The moon is creeping over the tops of the trees. It's casting an eerie light in through the window by the sofa, which I have left propped open, just an inch to get the cool breeze on my face. It has been just over a week since the day we found out about the pregnancy. I have only five days left to make a decision. I roll over having woken for a brief moment. The couch is somewhat uncomfortable. I'm wondering what woke me when I hear it again, a choking and gasping sound coming from the bed. Katniss crying. I stand up and walk over to her. Her eyes are squeezed shut as tears slid down her face. I cup both her cheeks and lightly kiss her.

She seems to relax at my touch, but upon trying to move her hands she moans. Since she refuses to speak to Dr. Aurelius, he has not granted permission for the restraints to be removed. Opening her eyes, she takes in our surroundings, the hospital room barely illuminated by moonlight. A small tear slides down her cheek.

"Lean forward," I whisper. The bed is adjusted so, its head is facing up, allowing her to be in a mostly seated position. She leans forward, scooting down a few inches, and I swing my good leg behind her and pull myself up onto the bed, adjusting and pulling my prosthetic after me, till she is lying against my chest, her body resting soundly between my legs. She leans back into me, the top of her head resting just under my chin. Normally when we are in this position, I wrap my arms around her abdomen, but since finding out about the pregnancy I have been careful to avoid touching that part of her. Instead I begin to stroke her arms, tracing the patterns I would draw with frosting if she were a cake.

"Better?" I ask. She nods. The past week has been difficult. She mostly just lies there, catatonic. Dr. Aurelius tries to talk to her at least twice a day, sometimes with me there, sometimes without me there. Dr. Birk comes and tries to impress upon me the importance of making a decision sooner rather than later. He goes on about her blood pressure and medical ability to be pregnant and give birth, asking me all kinds of questions about any toxins she might have come in contact with. He talks about it with Katniss fully conscious. She watches us clearly, listening, but never offers any opinion.

Haymitch comes in everyday as well. He just sits on the couch though, flask in one hand, remote in the other, yelling at the TV. When I last called the bakery, I asked the they boys if they could ask Sae to stop by and make sure Haymitch is eating and pay her for her trouble. I haven't been to work since Katniss was admitted to the hospital, and I'm grateful and Liam, Ryan, and Yates, my three employees, understand. None of them of course know the real reason for Katniss' relapse. I was vague when I told them she had been admitted to the hospital for psychiatric evaluation, but no one questions it. It is common knowledge that sometimes Katniss still struggles.

I begin to rock her slowly back and forth, my arms wrapped around her shoulders, soothing her as the tears begin to subside. She's shaking in my embrace now. Her hands clutch at the side of the bed, her knuckles white. This is the most I've touched her in days. Her muscles feel tense, and her skin dry and cracked from the harsh soap the nurses have been using to bath her. Her hair lies loose. I took out her braid while she was sedated the first day, and despite all the rest she has been getting her eyes are puffy from exhaustion.

"What are you going to do?" she asks me.

"What do you mean?" I ask confused. I've been here with her this whole time. I'll sleep in the hospital bed with her tonight, and watch TV with her tomorrow or read to her, like we've been doing for a little over a week now. What else is there to do?

"Me? And…" she trails off. I push her hair back from her neck. She is staring at the wall across the room, not making eye contact with me. "You said you didn't want it this way…does that mean you're going to have them…"

"It doesn't have to be what I'm going to do," I tell her.

"Dr. Aurelius says I can't make decisions."

"But if I tell him it's my decision…"

"I can't do it. I can't think straight. You have to do it." Her voice is shaking. I know how difficult this has to be for her. She is not the most trusting person. It's a mark of how far we've come that she's asking me to do this for her, that she trusts me. The best way to be worthy of that trust is think only of her.

"Then just tell me how you feel. Help me decide what is best for us, for you."

"Every time I think of having an abortion…I just want to die because it'd be too selfish, after everything you did. Keeping me alive, physically. Putting me back together, helping me heal. I can't destroy it, because it's a piece of you…" I close my eyes, breathing in deeply, allowing myself to imagine a baby. "But…" I push the image from my mind like it might be toxic. "But whenever I fall asleep or try to imagine a baby…I see it being lifted into an arena, stabbed with a spear, set on fire in a bombing, destroyed by mutts. I see Effie pulling its name from a Reaping Bowl, and…I panic. I can't move. I can't…I can't…I can't even think about it." I can feel her heart pounding, as I lower my fingers to her wrist, checking her pulse.

"The games are over," I say softly, altering my usual speech slightly as I go. "The mutts are destroyed. The war is over. Snow is dead. Coin is dead. Your mother is safe. Haymitch is safe. I am safe, and Prim is somewhere were no one can hurt her ever again. You are here, in my arms, and you can have whatever kind of life you want to have, whether it's living in my arms forever, or bring another life into this world. No one will be reaped. I might not be able to promise nothing will put us in danger ever again, but _if_ that day comes, it won't be the Hunger Games. It won't be like it was before.

"Annie said her baby gave her something to live for…" Katniss whispers. "That she could look at him whenever she questioned why Finnick made the decisions he did, and just know." I nod.

"That's what she told me when I last spoke to her about it," I confirm.

"But all I can do is think about everything that could go wrong. If I do this…we could lose it, but if I don't…I could lose you."

"You could never lose me." I say firmly. "Never. Not even if you tried, and there were days where we both know you were trying." I shudder a little, thinking of the time after our first Hunger Games, before the Victory Tour.

"When you say things like that, it makes me feel like you deserve this. How can I not give you what you want?"

"What I want is for you get out of those restraints. If you really want to give me what I want, talk to Dr. Aurelius tomorrow." My eyes are getting heavy. "I want you to want to live. I want you to not feel overcome by panic. I want to take you home." She's shaking her head.

"This is going to be a long one, Peeta," she whispers.

"Then talk to the doctors. Just tell them what you told me. Take the first step." I lean my head against her closing my eyes. "Try to rest."

"I didn't really help you, did I?"

"You did." I say. "You're playing out two scenarios in your head. You can only focus on the horrible side of each, so you see yourself as being trapped in an awful situation that you'll never escape. If we choose a path, I think we can work on getting you to see the positive side of things."

"So what are you going to do?"

"If it's alright with you, I think we're going to have a baby," I sleepily moan, sliding my hands down from her shoulders. They settle on her abdomen. Her muscles tense for a moment before relaxing into me. Leaning into the familiar position as I trace my imaginary icing over the spot where our child is resting.

"Don't think about Reapings," I whisper to her. "Just imagine a little girl, with your hair and eyes, eating a cheese bun." She lets out a sigh.

"Little boy, with your blond hair and blue eyes, and a bow and arrow," she responds. "The miniature ones, like my father used to make me when I was a kid." I nod.

"Just picture it…no reapings, no games, no Snow, no Coin, no cameras. Just the three of us." She inhales deeply.

"What if that's not what happens?"

"Be brave," I say. "Trust everything you've already done to make the world safer. Trust Paylor to keep the peace, like she has for five years. Trust me, to do whatever it takes to keep you both safe. Trust Dr. Birk and Dr. Clora to take good care of you. Trust Dr. Aurelius to support us and help you through."

"What if my body can't support it?"

"Have you been listening to Birk? He and Clora both don't see any reasons you can't deliver a healthy baby. All the problems are mental Katniss. I'll take care of everything I can. You just need to take care of yourself, by sleeping and talking to Dr. Aurelius."

"Sleeping," she mummers, her head lulling a little.

"Close your eyes," I mummer back. "Dream soft dreams. I'm right here."

**AN: What do you think? I personally love this chapter. I've got a lot of this story written already and this chapter is actually probably my favorite so far. Besides Katniss finally starts talking and opening up in this chapter, and who wasn't rooting for that to happen soon! Leave a review and let me know what you think! **


	8. Chapter 8: A Worrying Parent

**Trigger Warnings: Brief mention of abortion and a short narration of paralyzing panic.**

I wake up the next morning, but pause before opening my eyes. I don't want to move. It's the first time I've felt Katniss' warm body pressed against me in the morning in days. A smile plays across my face as I lightly circle my hand over the spot where our baby is. A feeling of complete joy followed by mild panic overcomes me. I'm going to be a father. I try to recall the way my own father behaved, imagining what he might say if he could see me now. It's hard to imagine since I haven't spoken to him in five years. The closest thing I've had to a father figure these days is…I groan. What's that smell?

"We having a baby then?" his voice cuts through the still morning air. It's slurred so he's clearly drunk, but there's something else there…like excitement. I open my eyes and see Haymitch standing at the foot of the bed, the open flask in his right hand. His eyes are fixed on my fingers, which are still drawing light circles on Katniss' stomach. I stop. Katniss sits up a little.

"No, Haymitch," Katniss, yawns as she speaks. "_We_ are not having a baby. _Peeta and I_ are having a baby, and _you_ are having a drink."

"Looks like your backbone regrew overnight sweetheart."

I shift slightly underneath Katniss, bending my prosthetic, which has become stiff during the night. It makes a slight cracking noise. She moves as though she wants to stroke it, massage it, they way she normally does, but her hands are caught by the restraints. She looks at them as if she'd forgotten they were there. Then upon remembering her predicament she slumps back, all the fight gone out of her muscles, and the full weight of her body resting against my chest. I squeeze her a little trying to be encouraging.

"If you lean up, I'll get out and get Dr. Aurelius. We can talk about getting those restraints off…Will you talk to him?" I whisper lightly into her ear so Haymitch can't hear. She doesn't answer, but she leans forward and I awkwardly wriggle out from behind her. My prosthetic cracks again, as I straighten my knee. Katniss winces at the sound, but I walk past her. Haymitch settles on the couch, turns on the TV, and begins flicking through the channels, going on about some political controversy, searching for one of the news broadcast.

I find Dr. Aurelius by the coffee machine. He looks surprised to see me out of Katniss' room. I normally only leave for the bathroom or a shower. He sets down his paper cup and turns to me.

"I decided," I begin. He smiles in relief. "She's staying pregnant."

"You're sure?"

"Positive." The word makes my stomach clench with nerves, remembering the home pregnancy test. I make a mental note to get rid of it before Katniss comes home.

"We should arrange for a more through examination with Dr. Clora then."

"Shouldn't we take this slow…make sure she can handle it?" I ask. He sighs, picks up his cup, and take a big swig. "I mean it's best for both of them if she's under as little stress as possible right?"

"Of course, but I can only assess whether or not she's ready if she talks to me," he states plainly.

"I asked her to talk to you," I reply. "Can you give it a try? She came to a little last night and was able to explain to me what she's feeling. I told her she doesn't have to tell you anything new, just what she told me last night."

"That would at least be a start," he agrees. "I'll give it a shot." We walk back down the hall, and find her and Haymitch, watching the television. I recognize Cesar Flickerman on the screen, interviewing Johanna Mason. My heart sinks, remembering that he is doing a tour of the districts to talk to all the old victors about how they're doing five years after the rebellion. He's scheduled to arrive in Twelve in three days. In my panic about Katniss, I had forgotten we agreed to the interview. Plutarch had begged. Haymitch turns the TV off, practically growling.

"Can you call Plutarch about canceling?" I ask. He grumbles. Dr. Aurelius seems to agree though.

"You can use the phone at the nurse's station if you like," he offers. "I need to talk to Katniss anyway." Haymitch gets up, and I stand awkwardly at the back of the room. As the door closes, the doctor sits down. "Would you like Peeta to stay?" he asks Katniss. She makes eye contact with me and nods slowly. I cross the room and take the seat next to her bed. She allows me to take her hand, and I begin to draw circles on it.

"Has Peeta told you the decision he's come to?" She nods again, a soft tear falling down her cheek. "How do you feel about it?"

"Scared," she croaks. It's the first word she's spoken to him since he arrived here from the Capitol. He smiles at her encouragingly.

"What are you afraid of?"

"Reaping," she whispers. She seems to only be able to say one word at a time. It's clear she's almost paralyzed with panic. I stroke her thumb with my own.

"Would you rather have an abortion?" She shakes her head tears sliding down her face, clutching my hand firmly.

"Can't…" she gulps. "Peeta…"

"I'm right here," I tell her, reaching out with my free hand and tracing her jaw line. She rests her cheek against my palm. She doesn't say anything though. She just inhales the scent of my fingers, tears drifting down her face.

"I want to be upfront with both of you," he pauses looking at our faces. "I'd be reluctant to discharge you Katniss, even if your mental state improved. The beginning of this pregnancy, something you've always feared above all else, has been rocky to say the least. I'm concerned that if you return home and relapse you'd be risking both your health and that of your unborn child. I would like to look into transferring you to a facility where we could more closely monitor your medical and psychological needs throughout the pregnancy and possibly for a little while beyond."

I suck in my breath. Not being able to take Katniss home until the baby was born…the idea fills me with guilt at how selfish I am being. It seems as though Dr. Aurelius can read my mind.

"I would have recommended this no matter what decision you had come to," he says firmly, staring straight into my eyes. "Unplanned pregnancy can be…damaging and has caused relapses into people with mental challenges far less difficult than your own. This could be a good thing. Doctors would always be on hand if there was a problem. I would be available in case Katniss becomes more distressed as the pregnancy progresses and becomes more apparent. We could protect you from the horror of having to talk to Cesar Flickerman," he adds, chuckling a little. I glance at Katniss. Her eyes are focused on Dr. Aurelius, but her expression is blank.

"If you'd be on hand…might I ask where this facility is?" I ask. His gaze drops down to the floor briefly before looking back up.

"The only facility I would feel comfortable recommending is in the Capitol."

"No." I say firmly.

"Now Peeta, you have to listen to reason. This place specializes in treating people who have experienced trauma. Most of the other Victors have been there at least once. We could get you both a more comfortable living arrangement. You would never have to leave the facility if you did not wish to, and there would be the best doctors and psychologists available at the push of a button." Even these luxuries sound tainted. They are being offered because of who we are. As both Victors and key rebels Katniss and I still hold a certain position outside of District 12. One we have been too happy to ignore, but on our rare outings to other Districts, the remembrance vigil on the one year anniversary of the fall of the Capitol, Joanna Mason's surprise party and a week last summer with Annie in four, people have stared, whispered, even reached out to us. Whenever this would happen, Katniss would withdraw and easily become flustered. In the Capitol people had openly wept before her about Prim's death, seeking her comfort almost, and she had fled back into the Training Center, refusing to come out till it was time to go home.

"We can't go back to the Capitol," I state. "The trauma of going back to that place where it all…" I trail off, not wanting to upset Katniss.

"You wouldn't have to see any of it," he hurriedly tells me. "We can take you through different routes. We can get you to the facility without you seeing anything you'd recognize, nowhere where anything significant happened. I could even sedate Katniss if it's needed."

"How would taking her away from the people and doctor's she knows be more helpful? It'd be too much stress."

"Haymitch would be welcome to join us of course, and I can arrange for other friendly faces to be present. Ms. Trinket would love to see you both, I'm sure, and Katniss' old prep team is doing very well last time Plutarch and I spoke." I stare at him. I had never even thought about Effie, still somewhere in the Capitol. I hadn't seen her since before the Quarter Quell. The image of her getting us ready for interviews popped through my head.

"The media," I say slowly. Dr. Aurelius looks down.

"Yes well…that does pose a problem."

"What's to stop them from getting wind of us being the Capitol."

"Confidentiality is…" but he can't finish the sentence. It happened before when Annie relapsed. Aurelius had tried to bring her back to the Capitol to probably the same facility, and the friend of a nurse had seen her. Plutarch had fired everyone who printed the story, but it had gotten out and soon Capitol citizens, the sick ones who missed the games, were pressed up against the door to the place, trying to get a glimpse of a mad victor.

"Listen to me," he says leaning forward, making unblinking eye contact with me. "I have been treating both of you for five years, and I've come to care about you a lot. When you got married only a year after the rebellion I didn't say anything, and when Haymitch asked if he should stop you, I said no. You were both only nineteen or eighteen, but I let you make the decision to be together." I wince at his words, remembering Haymitch's insistence we hold off on the marriage. We'd held the toasting that night without his blessing. I've still never seen him that angry.

"But you're both still very young, only twenty two, and whether you like to admit it or not you're still recovering."

"You make us sound like irresponsible teenagers," Katniss snaps, speaking a full sentence in front of him for the first time since his arrival.

"I do not mean to, but Katniss, this pregnancy was clearly unplanned and you have not demonstrated that you possess the emotional stability needed to deal with this on your own. You're going to need a lot of help, and as good as Haymitch's intentions are I do not think you two can handle a pregnancy and a baby with only him as your support system." It's hard to argue with that. Just the day before we rushed Katniss to the hospital, he'd come into our house drunk out of his mind, screaming about how the geese were Game Maker mutts, and that they were plotting against him. He'd vomited all over the entryway and passed out.

"It wouldn't be forever," the doctor continues. "You finish the pregnancy in the Capitol, learn all about being parents, have the baby, get a few weeks practice, and come home. You wouldn't have to worry about anything." I raise an eyebrow at him.

"There would be no way to come home before the baby is born?" asks Katniss.

"Consider me a worrying parent. I'd feel better if you both stayed until the little one is at least a few weeks old," he says, trying to sound casual, but I can hear the undertone in his voice. I understand. He's already worried about post partum depression. I glance at Katniss, and have to resist the urge to shutter at the thought of taking care of her and a newborn baby, if she were to slip into one of her depressive episodes. Tears are slowly sliding down her cheeks as she stares pointedly above both our heads. I look back to the doctor and nod silently without her seeing.

**AN: I know! I was surprised to when they wound up making a break for the Capitol. I didn't see that one coming, but the more I thought about it the less likely it seemed that Aurelius would simply let Katniss and Peeta walk out the hospital doors and back into 12. I hope you liked the chapter. Please leave a review! **


	9. Chapter 9: Try Not to Withdraw

**Trigger Warnings: Mentions anxiety, depression, and issues eating**

**Don't let the warnings scare you off. This is actually a tame chapter. **

"I just don't want you to feel like you have to go," I snap at Haymitch. He's been grumbling about going stay in the Capitol indefinitely for the past two months. I have been listening to hours of him whining about the geese and what would they do without him, and who would keep Sae company. We are back at Katniss and I's home in Victor's Village and he sits on the bed with his suitcase at his feet, as I toss things haphazardly into our old luggage from the Victory Tour. I stare blankly at Katniss' closet not knowing what to pack. In the time it took for Dr. Aurelius to arrange for the lifting of her court ordered confinement in 12, her transfer, and our transportation to the Capitol, she has started to show. Somehow it doesn't seem like the clothes Cinna designed will fit her anymore. I smile, remembering the slight puckering of her skin, barely noticeable, but I have been watching carefully, waiting for our new addition to make its presence known.

"Of course I have to come," Haymitch replies angrily. He puffs up his chest importantly. "I'm supposed to be your mentor, aren't I?"

"We're twenty two," I remind him. "We're not two terrified sixteen year olds in an arena anymore."

"Of course you aren't. We wouldn't be in this predicament if you were. That cave was probably the most chaste I've ever see you two." I snort, looking through Katniss' clothes trying to find something with a little bit of give. We might need to talk to Aurelius about maternity clothes. "Even during the Quarter Quell, if that lightening hadn't hit that tree when it did, you'd probably have wound up giving all of Panem a free sex show on that beach." I throw a hanger at him.

"You've been whining so much about coming. It's been nonstop for two months," I remind him. "No one is making you." I pull out her hunting pants. They're worn and hopefully will be a little flexible around the waist. I grab a few large button ups as well, folding them neatly as I go. "Stay if you want. Take care of your geese. Get drunk with Sae, make a baby of your own, I don't care."

"What and just let you down all the good booze in the Capitol alone?" he demands. He'd said originally he would only come for the free alcohol. Victor's in the Capitol can have anything they want, no charge, but I don't buy it. He comes to the hospital everyday, talking softly to Katniss, watching television with her while I nap or shower, brining us cheese buns from the bakery. This morning when he stopped by, they were helping Katniss get out of bed for a physical, and his eyes fell across her slightly swollen stomach. I spotted the smile, which was quickly replaced by a scowl when he saw me looking.

"Stop complaining then." Every piece of clothing I think might fit her for at least the next month or so is sitting in a suitcase next to its identical twin, stuffed with my clothes. He mumbles, outraged as he takes another swig from his flask. "We need to go," I remind him checking the time. We're supposed to be on the train in an hour. Dr. Birk and Dr. Aurelius are taking her. Dr. Birk is to travel with us to the Capitol and sign the transitional paper work. Dr. Clora gave Katniss her final examination this morning and will be sending all the information to the facility in the Capitol.

I lock the house behind me. Sae will be coming to care for it while we're gone, but she has a key. I briefly consider asking her to baby proof the house, but decide to hold off. It's early yet, and while everyone keeps telling me things are going to okay and I keep telling Katniss things are going to be okay, I can't shake a slight feeling on anxiety. Her mental state seems so fragile. For the past two months she's been crying for hours at a time, eating sporadically, and sometimes going days without seeming to be aware anyone is near her. The first week after it was decided we'd be going to the Capitol, Clora and Birk had needed to keep her hydrated and functioning with an IV. Clora had deep frown lines on her forehead, and has taken to performing ultrasounds every four days. I still can't bring myself to look at the image, but I close my eyes and let the baby's heart beat wash over me. Every time the ultrasound would end the same way.

"Things are fine for now, but the longer you go without consistent food, the more likely things are to take a turn. Keep eating." Then she'd leave the room. Whenever we had an ultrasound done Katniss would eat a little bit more and a little bit more, but it still didn't seem to be enough.

I shoo the geese away, as Haymitch starts towards the gate, banging his suitcase against the ground. I follow carefully carrying the two in my hands behind him. We make it to the train station just as Dr. Birk pulls up in the hospital car. He smiles as he gets out, and opens the back door. Katniss emerges, wearing sweat pants and a tank top, under her father's hunting coat. It covers her slightly larger stomach almost perfectly. Dr. Aurelius pops out of the car from the other side and walks around to her. He places a hand on her shoulder and we all make our way towards the train. A Capitol attending pops open a back door for us and we enter. We have been granted the medical compartment of the train, which has space for doctors, patients and family members. It's removed from the rest of the passengers giving us privacy. The attending takes everyone's luggage, and Dr. Birk helps Katniss back toward the patient transit room. I follow.

It's drearier than the last room. Nothing but a bed, white walls, one chair and machines. I spot the restraints on the bed, but he does not strap her into them. Dr. Aurelius gave consent to have them removed about six weeks ago, but they're always kept close at hand, just in case. Katniss is chewing on her lips as she's directed towards the bed. She takes off her jacket and slides under the covers and lies back, taking deep breathes.

"Anxious?" I ask. She nods. "That's okay." I tell her trying to keep my own nerves out of my voice. We did not have a good history with trains. Her bed is propped up again, so she's mostly sitting. As Dr. Birk leaves to get settled, I climb behind her. She relaxes back into my chest, and I wrap my arms around her stomach. She placed her hands on top of mine, resting lightly on her abdomen.

"You noticed?" She asks. I smile a little, knowing she was talking about the hardly detectable bump, which is now resting safely under my palm. I nod into her hair.

"How do you feel?" I ask.

"Nauseas," she answers. "Drained. It's like my limbs are lead." Aurelius had said fatigue was common in people dealing with server anxiety and depression. I doubt she can summon the energy to get out of bed even if she wants to. She has reverted back to her old self, the girl trying to recover from the catastrophe that was Mockingjay. She only speaks to me or occasionally Haymitch. She can still only manage short one-word answers to Aurelius, and whenever Birk is in the room she can barely look at him. Clora at least she had made eye contact with.

"All normal," I remind her. She nods.

"How are you?" I don't want to answer. I don't want to tell her I'm worried, terrified I've made a decision that will cost me both my child and my wife. I can't put my own fears on her now, but she seems to sense them in my hesitation. "If you want me to get better, you can't treat me like I'm going to break at any moment. It infuriates me, you know."

"I know," I respond. We have had this conversation many times over the years. She has always insisted that people treating her as if she is insane and broken is what makes her feel insane and broken. So I answer honestly. "I'm just worried."

"About me?"

"About all of it." I don't want to directly mention my fear of how her own mental state is affecting the baby. "Just promise me…promise me, you'll at least try to let them help. That you'll try not to withdraw." She doesn't respond.

**AN: Alright so I have to confess that this chapter is a little bit of a filler. Two months have passed for them and I needed to sum things up. The next chapter is anything but a filler though, I promise. I'll hopefully have it up soon, but my travels are ending this week and I've got some jet lag to overcome. Leave a review, and I'll update as soon as I can! **


	10. Chapter 10: Not Real

**Tiger Warnings: Flashbacks, delirium, mental breakdown (including brief mention of self harm) and brief description of an physical attack.**

Haymitch and I are sharing a room for family members. There are two beds, but it still doesn't seem big enough. He hasn't showered for at least three or four days, and I'm starting to wonder why no one at the hospital stopped him from coming in, seeing as how he's a living-breathing bacteria transporting machine. He's also drunk. I haven't seen him drunk since before Katniss was hospitalized. I'm sure he has been drunk, but he just always came to see us at least mildly sober.

"You know boy, I always told her…" he slurs to me, chugging from his flask as he sits on his bed. "I always told her, she could live a hundred lifetimes and not deserve you."

"That's a horrible thing to tell someone Haymitch," I snap back. I miss Katniss. We haven't slept in the same bed in months. I've been sleeping on the couch in her room, and though I'm only three feet away, the distance seems impossible to close. Now, sitting on this small twin size bed, listening to the ramblings of a disturbed drunk, I miss the great space of my bed at home and the feeling of being tangled in my wife's limbs and hair.

"And then, you run off and marry her," he continues as if I hadn't spoken. "Run off and marry her, even though she was mentally unstable and I told you not to…I told you not to," he repeats staring off into space. "I knew this would happen you know." He's getting smug now.

"Knew what exactly?"

"That you'd slip." He's smiling. "That if you two got married, it wouldn't be long till you were lulled into a false sense of security. You'd think you were doing better, healing even. In reality though you'd both just be surviving a little bit better each day through a combination of complete dependence and nothing too terrible happening. You'd think you were safe or better and you wouldn't be as careful as you needed to be."

"Shut up Haymitch," I growl.

"Of course, maybe you did it on purpose. It seems so convenient. She's been saying no to kids for as long as I've known her, but here she is pregnant, because you chose to leave her that way. Because you just _happened_ to forget to run a simple errand and some rain just _happened_ to keep you both in bed for days and days and days. What luck for you. I never pegged you for a manipulator."

I'm so over come with rage, I don't registered what my hands are doing until my fists are pounding into his face. My heart is racing as blood spills from his nose. I feel something besides adrenaline coursing through me. Something familiar that is seeping into my brain like poison. My muscles tense as I sense the threat, its presence. Haymitch is letting out yelps of pain, trying to stop the flow of blood, and I hear footsteps coming from down the hall.

The train is taking me to that place. Images flash through my mind of people standing over me in lab coats, and I know the footsteps are people who have come to kill me. I lunge out of the door, and see a figure standing at the end of the hall. Upon seeing me the man whips around and locks the door he was standing in front of. I race towards him screaming hands out stretched to choke him. He's with the Capitol. He's trying to take her from me. He killed my family. He's replaced her with a mutt that I have to kill.

"Not real," he says to me firmly. I lunged for him. He dodges and manages to get past me. He's running now down the hall, and the door I left open, snaps shut, and with a click Haymitch and the man are now locked in a compartment leaving me in the hallway. I look through the window of the door the man had locked before running. I see her. Except it's not her. It's the mutt they replaced her with. It's awake and staring at me wide eyed and fearful because it knows that I know what it is, and that I'm going to kill it. I bang on the door.

"OPEN THE DOOR!"

"Not real Peeta!" it screams to me and I begin banging on it with my fists, hoping to break the glass. It keeps screaming, getting louder and louder over my pounding fists, "Not real! Not real! NOT REAL!"

"What did you do to her!" I holler.

"Nothing Peeta! I'm right here. It's me!" The thing is out of bed now approaching the door. It's wearing the same tank top and sweat pants she was wearing earlier, and I can see the beginning of a bump. If they took her what happened to the baby?

"What did you do to the baby?" I scream at it. It jumps and begins to cry, halting its progress towards the door, towards me.

"N-Nothing," it chokes out to me.

"LIAR!" I holler. "You're lying! You did something to it! You're not her! She wouldn't do this!"

"Do what?" it asks, voice quivering.

"Put our baby in danger like this! Refuse to eat, to talk about it! She wouldn't be so selfish as to put its life in danger! What did you do to her! To the baby!" The mutt collapses on the floor tears streaming down its face. It's got its arms wrapped around the fake baby bump. I let out a scream of fury and manage to finally break the glass on window in the door, when I feel the stab of a needle in my shoulder. I slump forward and the world drifts away from me.

I hear the muttering in my dreams. _Not real, not real, not real, not real, not real._ Over and over and over again. I see images flashing before me. Katniss turning into a tracker jacker and coming towards me. Katniss standing above me in a haze of silver begging me not to die. Katniss pushing me into the chemical ridden fog. Katniss crying over me, as my heart begins to beat again. Finnick looking over her shoulder, terrified. Katniss mercifully ending Finnick's life as the mutts pull him under. Her weeping face as Prim burns alive. I feel her body pressed against mine at night, clinging to me, begging me not to let her slip away. _Real_.

I become aware of the soft cushioning underneath me, and feel the warmth of covers pressed over me. The fabric is soft and smells clean. I burrow in deeper, not wanting to remember how I wound up here, but I hear the muttering again, coming from near by, and it sounds so distressed, my blood begins to pound again.

"Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real." It's a constant desperate stream, from someone clearly clinging to a semblance of reality and losing her grip. I open my eyes. I'm in a bed, lying flat on my back, sunlight drifting in from the large windows along the wall that runs parallel to were I rest now. Outside them I see a rows of trees and flowers occupying a courtyard along with a water fountain. The room itself has bookshelves and comfortable looking couches and tables. The walls are a soft off white that is clean, comforting and homey all at once. The bedspread is a deep blue, as is the upholstery on the couch and chairs and the table and books shelves are made of a dark wood.

I sit up a little and bring my hands to my forehead. I feel a growing lump on it and note how every inch of my body aches. I feel my hands, covered in bandages and become aware of a faint stinging underneath the sterile cloth. The images of shattering glass comes to mind. I must have cut myself badly. As I recall the image of the breaking glass, I also suddenly remember the screaming crying woman standing behind it, and begin looking around for her.

Katniss is lying on a bed between my own the wall of windows. Her eyes are closed and she's muttering, "Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real," over and over and over again. There are bandages covering her arms again and part of her neck. I see a light scratch mark on her face and realize her hands are once more occupying restraints. I sit up, my heart aching at the sight of her. I stand up and start to move towards her. I can't bring myself to touch her though. I remember the things I screamed at her. A deep sense of shames overwhelms and suddenly I feel like my limbs weigh a thousand pounds. I collapse into the chair next to her, and find myself unable to comfort her. I can't even control my own emotions. Instead I sit and rock back and forth on the chair next to her bed, crying uncontrollably, as her whispers fill the room.

"Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real."

**AN: I am ****_so_**** sorry for the delay in update. This is most certainly the longest I have gone without updating. I feel horrible for leaving you waiting for so long! I got back from traveling and had to get over jet lag which was followed by having to move again, and my new place didn't have internet for a while because of a problem with the cable company. I was also preoccupied trying to find furniture and get things back on track with my job since I'm not traveling anymore. I'm back now though, still employed in a furnished home that even has internet (although no cable). Sorry for the delay and I hope you liked this chapter. This one I think is one of the better ones. Please leave a review, and I'll update again soon! **


	11. Chapter 11: Don't Say That Please

**Trigger Warnings: More graphic discussion of abortion, mention of self harm, and panic attacks.**

"Get up." The growl sounds distant to me, and I wrinkle my nose against an unpleasant smell. I ignore the command. "Get up!" It's more insistent now, and it sounds closer. "Damn it Peeta! Get up!" I open my eyes. I'm still in the chair next to Katniss. My knees pressed into my chest. She's still in bed, still muttering, and I screw up my face, trying to block out the sound. Haymitch is standing over me, and I notice Dr. Birk adjusting an IV drip on the other side of the bed. Dr. Aurelius is standing in the doorway. I don't ask what happened. I remember.

"I just need your signature on these transfer documents. The practicing physician is Dr. Rincher. He'll be in to see you in an hour or so with the OBGYN, Dr. Ninda. After the ultrasound, Rincher is planning to administer a sedative." I nod slowly. As I sign the papers my hands shake. I clasp Dr. Birk's hand and thank him for the help. He nods and claps me on the shoulder, before leaving to catch his train back to District 12.

"Peeta," begins Aurelius. "I'd like to talk to you." I nod, dejectedly and get up.

Haymitch takes my seat and gives Katniss' hand a little squeeze as I leave the room.

"Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real," she mutters more intensely now in response to the noise. I close the door and feel my muscles relax a little, now that her whispers have been cut off. Dr. Aurelius turns to me.

"She had a fit after we knocked you out. She went on screaming about how she couldn't do any of it. That the whole thing was a mistake. She….she begged us to cut it out." This last sentence leaves his lips reluctantly. I feel as if I'm going to collapse. I've been so selfish. Letting her stay pregnant was a terrible mistake. I'm shaking my head.

"Is it too late to end this?"

"Yes," says Aurelius dully. "You made this decision Peeta. The only thing we can do now is let the pregnancy flow through it's natural course." I could cut it out of her myself. I could do it, but the second I think of taking a knife to Katniss I feel the tracker-jacker venom begin to pound. I can't do it. If I were to even cut her a little bit, my hijacked brain would take over. I would kill her. There is no escape. I've trapped us in this terrible situation. My body begins to shake as I lean against the wall outside of Katniss' room. I slide down it, till I'm on the floor. I can't breath.

"Peeta, I need you to pull yourself together," he says urgently. "I know normally I don't advice patients to push their feelings aside, but after your last attack Katniss became so hysterical I didn't know if she'd survive. I've never seen a patient scream like that in all my years practicing. If you fall apart now, she'll miscarry for sure." I take deep breaths as he speaks, trying to get my limbs under control. They're shaking violently, and I'm starting to hyperventilate.

"Would you like me to get you medication?" The question throws me. I haven't taken medication in years. Not since we were in District 13, and then it was only to get me to sit still and calm long enough to make it through a therapy session or to watch old footage of Katniss and myself. It made my mind feel foggy. I shake my head, and continue running through the breathing exercises he taught me.

"Where…where do we go from here?" I ask, feeling better, but not daring to move from the floor.

"We wait for the OBGYN to see if the baby is alright. In the mean time I need to start Katniss on antidepressants. We'll keep her restrained until such a time that I am confident she won't hurt herself. She'll need to meet with me multiple times a day. I'll draw up a schedule for her. It's important she have and maintain a routine. If she's feeling up for it, down the line you can take her on walks around the premises. There's a pool to swim in, and a library. Annie will be here in a few weeks for a check up. I've requested she leave her son in District 4 though. I'm worried seeing him could trigger Katniss. "

"And if the baby is not alright?" I ask shakily.

"We do those things either way. If the baby isn't alright we'll do a physical exam to see if she can maintain future pregnancies, and I'll give her a different kind of antidepressant and something for the anxiety as well. We also might look into sedatives for the nights. If the baby is alright, I won't be able to give her as much medication. She'll need to see a nutritionist as well, and you'll talk to Effie Trinket about maternity clothes." I nod slowly, feeling numb, not sure which option would be better at this point.

"I also think it's necessary for me to start seeing you again on a regular basis." Our sessions have been decreasing in frequency these last few years. While I used to talk to him daily we now speak maybe once every three to two weeks. My flashbacks have been decreasing.

"You're worried I'll be getting more attacks?"

"Partially. You are more likely to have them when you are in stressful situations, but I'm also concerned with how you're coping emotionally. Seeing someone you love pregnant and in this much pain would be disturbing for anyone." I nod. "So, I'd like to start Katniss medication now, and we can begin the therapy sessions for both of you after Dr. Ninda's examination." I nod again, and he extends a hand. I take it and brace myself as I get back on my feet. We walk back into Katniss' room. Her voice has dropped again and she's muttering. Haymitch is still holding her hand and stroking her hair. He doesn't hear us come in, so I catch some of his whispers to her.

"That's right sweetheart, it wasn't real. He didn't mean any of it. It wasn't real," he comforts her softly. Aureluis comes up behind him and pats him on the shoulder. His whispers stop, and he turns to see the therapist behind him and me, standing in the doorway. "If you want her to talk or at least stop muttering, I think she'll need a moment with the boy," he grumbles.

"I was thinking the same thing," Aurelius agreed. "Haymitch why don't you wait outside. I need to run for a prescription anyway. Peeta, you stay here and say whatever comes to mind," he tells me kindly. I move into the room, and they both brush past me. The door closes softly, and I'm left alone with my muttering wife. I slowly make my way back to the chair beside her bed, but find myself feeling sick at the thought of sitting down in it again. Instead I perch myself awkwardly on the side of her bed and take her hand.

"Katniss," I begin softly. She draws in a breath, pausing the relentless muttering. "Katniss," I say again. Her lips are still moving but no sound is coming out. "Katniss," I say a third time, giving her hand a squeeze. Her eyes open. It takes them a moment to focus. She stares at me, drinking in the sight of me and my bandages, and then she begins to sob hysterically. I bend down and put my face right next to hers, cupping it with my hands.

"It's okay," I whisper. "It's okay. It wasn't real. It was an attack. I'm so sorry, Katniss, but it's over now. It's over. It wasn't real. It wasn't me. It was Capitol Peeta, and remember what we always say. He's not real. What he says is not real." I wipe away the tears on her face as I stare into her eyes. We never break eye contact and I tell her again and again, "Not real." However my mantra is not desperate and breathy like hers. It's grounded firm and confident. Finally her breathing slows and her tears stop.

"We can't…We can't do this," she whispers to me. "We're not ready for this." I bite my lip.

"There's no way out Katniss. We can't terminate the pregnancy without hurting you, possibly beyond repair, and the doctors won't do it." She's shaking her head at my words.

"But…But…But…we can't do this. I'm…I can't…I can't stop trying to hurt myself, and you…with the attacks. We can't be parents. We can't protect a baby. We can't even protect…I couldn't even protect…. and she was fourteen…she wasn't helpless." She's cut off as tears overcome her once more. I wipe them away and kiss her forehead.

"That was the war Katniss. It's different now. We just need to learn and to be supported. That's why we're here. We're here to get the help we need. To learn how to take care of a baby and ourselves. To get our process of healing back on track. We'll get ready. We have help," I tell her firmly as I kiss her forehead again, "Because Katniss, it's too late. We have to do this."

"We could end it ourselves," she suggests desperately. I shake my head.

"Do you remember last year, when you cut yourself while skinning that rabbit?' Her knife had slipped and she wound up accidentally slicing a two inch long cut down her thigh. She'd been fine, but when she went into the house to get me, seeing her covered in blood triggered a flashback. I'd wound up lunging for her throat. She'd only just managed to get out of the house and run to get Haymitch, covered in blood. "If we did it ourselves, the trauma of you losing the baby and the blood….I'd wind up killing you Katniss."

"What if…I…did…it…without…you," she stutters. Panic over powers me and I grip her shoulder tightly.

"Don't!" I say firmly. Her eyes widen at my reaction. "Don't you dare! Not…You…Just don't!" I haven't spoken to her like this since our first games when she wanted to go to the feast to get my medicine. "I won't allow you to hurt yourself Katniss! Just seeing you with the scratches is…" a sob escapes my chest, and I clutch her even harder. "If you caused enough harm to yourself to cause a miscarriage…Please Katniss! You've been through too much trauma already. We both have." She's shaking. I don't loosen my grip on her shoulder.

"I know it's selfish," I tell her. "But I can't see you go through that. I won't make it Katniss. I won't." She bites her lower lip, nodding to convey she understands. "I love you so much, and if I could take this all back I would," I whisper to her.

"Don't say that please," she groans. I look at her. "If we're going to do this, I need to know you want this. I need to know that you'll be happy when it comes, because if you're happy…I'd do anything for you. You know that right?" I smile at her and nod. She's asking me to be happy, so she can draw strength from knowing that I'm getting what I always wanted, a child. She wants to be able to tell herself that she's doing this for me. She needs a purpose for everything.

"If you haven't miscarried already," I whisper. "I'll be happy." She shakes her head.

"I haven't," she responds. "I know I haven't. We're both…fine." As if on cue the door opens and Dr. Aurelius returns followed by a man and a woman who can only be Rincher and Ninda. They're working together to push in the machine used for ultrasounds and I step aside. The man introduces himself and his colleague but I'm not paying attention. I watch the woman work and wait for the screen to come to life. It clicks on, and the image comes into focus as Ninda moves the wand over the top of Katniss' stomach.

"There it is," she simpers. Pointing to the screen. I lean in, looking at our baby, for the first time. "That outline there," she says, tracing her fingers across the screen her eyes watching me closely, "and that's the head." My smile is automatic. It doesn't look like a head, just a large peanut with extra lines. "Do we want to know the gender?" she asks. I jump and look back at Katniss. Her hands are still in restraints gripping the bed sheets. I try to give her a reassuring smile.

"Yes," I say softly, and I don't drop my eye contact with Katniss as Ninda speaks.

"It's a girl!"

**AN: Hi all! I'm hoping to get more reviews this time, because I haven't been seeing that many with the last few chapters. Hopefully my updates are going to be more regular going forward, probably about once a week. It would be helpful for me though to know what everyone is thinking. Also some of the upcoming chapters are by far my favorite, and if anyone is feeling like things are just so dramatic, don't worry I have some comic relief coming at you very soon! **


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